I Got Arms (That Long To Hold You)
by garlic
Summary: Lexa is touch-starved. Clarke is a touchy-feely person. If only they could both get over themselves, they'd be a match made in heaven. Or Basically, Lexa wants a hug. [Post 3x4, canon divergent]


Title: I Got Arms (That Long To Hold You)

By: garlic

Disclaimer: Not mine, but I refuse to acknowledge their rightful copyright holders.

Summary: Lexa is touch-starved. Clarke is a touchy-feely person. If only they could both get over themselves, they'd be a match made in heaven.

AN: Hakeldama never happened. Bellamy didn't carry out the most genocidal brain fart known to man, Pike is never voted Chancellor because he's in frigging jail. Titus isn't the world's most horrible parental figure, the entire CoL plot exists solely in Jaha's oxygen-deprived mind, there's peace and happiness and no one fucking died. (Except Nia.)

* * *

If Abby squeezed any harder, Clarke might actually start turning blue. She pat somewhat awkwardly at her mother's back until her arms loosened.

Abby pulled back, framing Clarke's cheeks with her hands. "Sorry, sweetie, it's just been too long."

"It's been two weeks."

Her mother favored her with an exasperated look. "Yes. But you barely dropped off that woman's body before you were leaving again."

 _Spot on._ Clarke shifted guiltily. She and Lexa remained at Camp Ja-no, _Arkadia,_ just long enough for the ritual burning of Nia's corpse and to tamp down any lingering protests against joining the coalition. Thankfully the smooth transference of Chancellorship from Abby to Kane calmed the majority of the Arkers, especially with Pike and his followers securely imprisoned.

Along with Bellamy.

Clarke's heart was a stone in her chest at the reminder. He was one of the reasons she hadn't stayed longer.

 _She had gone to him, sure that this was some sort of mistake. Sure that she could get through to him, past this lapse in judgement, just like she had done before. She was met with seething resentment and vitriol as the man she once trusted with her life hurled accusations and blame at her._

 _For leaving. For siding with the enemy. For the dead in the mountain._

 _"The mighty Wanheda," he had sneered, "How fitting because people always die when you're in charge."_

"Clarke?"

She blinked, focusing back on Abby, who thumbed worriedly at the crease in her brow. She managed a weak smile. "Sorry, I guess I zoned out a bit. I'm fine."

It was a weak excuse, and Abby clearly wasn't buying it. "You know you can talk to me, right?"

Clarke nodded. "I know."

Abby favored her with a look that said she was willing to drop it for now, but she certainly wouldn't forget. "Okay then. Marcus and I are heading down to the outdoor market, he's obsessed with the street food."

Clarke laughed softly at the mildly perturbed expression on her face.

"Wanna tag along?"

She shook her head. "Thanks, but I'm due for an appointment." Not to mention there was no way she was gonna play third wheel to...whatever it was her mother and Kane was. _Ew._ She had noticed the furtive glances between them. _Brain, don't go there._

Abby arched a brow. "Oh?" Her voice trailed up leadingly. Clarke shot down the insinuation with a dry look.

"With Aden."

"Aden."

"He's eleven."

"Ah." Abby chuckled. "All right. See you tonight?"

"Sure. Have a good time."

Abby smiled, leaning in to lay a kiss softly at her temple before leaving the room with Marcus, who nodded a genial goodbye.

When the door closed Clarke turned, spotting Lexa staring intently at her.

"Something wrong?"

Lexa's eyes darted away, refusing to meet hers. "No."

Clarke arched an eyebrow. "Okay." A beat.

"You're meeting with Aden?" Despite looking steadfastly at the floor there was no disguising the inquisitive tone in Lexa's voice.

Clarke narrowed her eyes curiously. "Aden and some of the other nightbloods wanted to finish reading this book we start-oh!" She chewed nervously at her lower lip. "...Is that okay? I've been reading with them in the library."

"Of course, Clarke. I'm glad you enjoy their company." Pride puffed out her chest, which Clarke thought looked ridiculous seeing as Lexa's gaze was still oddly riveted to the floor.

"Okay, great. I'm just gonna…" she jerked her head towards the door. "Head out."

Cool green eyes finally lifted to make contact. "Of course. Have a good day, Ambassador." The dismissal was clear in her voice.

Clarke left, confusion nipping at her heels. _What was that?_

* * *

Lexa was acting strange.

Clarke observed the Commander where she stood across the room, head bent in conversation with Titus. She looked the same as ever, mien serious, shoulders squared, hands folded firmly at the small of her back.

And yet...there was something _off._ If only she could just pinpoint what it was.

"So what do you think?"

"Hm?"

"About the conditions of restitution?"

"What? Yeah. Sure."

"Clarke!"

Clarke jerked as Abby's voice barked right next to her ear, wincing at the volume and proximity. "Ow!" She glared at her mother. "What?!"

Abby crossed her arms, leaning back on her heels and leveled a rather unimpressed look at her daughter. "Have you been listening to a word we've been saying?"

Guilty eyes darted between Abby and Kane, the latter looking distinctly amused and _knowing_. She felt heat begin to gather at ears. _There's no way he suspected anything, right?_ God, the idea that someone, someone so close to _her mom_ , might work out that there may be something perhaps more than professional about her interest in Lexa…

How _mortifying._

She cleared her throat. "I'll go over everything with Lexa later, anyways."

Abby continued to eye her suspiciously. _Damn. She should've avoided calling Lexa by name._ Clarke studiously avoided her gaze.

Marcus chuckled, patting reassuringly at Abby's shoulder before redirecting his good humor towards Clarke. "How _is_ Lexa, by the way?"

Clarke twitched. "...She's fine."

He regarded her with gentle brown eyes. "You're getting along well."

This time Abby twitched. Clarke resisted rolling her eyes. "Yeah. We have an...understanding."

Abby let out a skeptical humph and Clarke's jaw clenched in an effort not to respond, hackles raising at the slight. She knew her mother was more distrustful of Lexa than her, but the negativity still rankled.

Thankfully Marcus had taken his newfound persona as peacemaker with aplomb and continued to run with it, stepping up to calm the choppy waters. "Hey. You're doing fine work here. You know that, right?" His large, warm palm cupped her shoulder. It was caring and comforting - almost paternal, and Clarke had to choke back the sudden rush of nostalgia.

It had been so long since Clarke had let herself think about her father. Every second on the ground had been consumed with _survival,_ and then _betrayal,_ and then _guilt_ , and then _politics,_ and she knew if she let herself slow down and think about her father - the first loss of what would become a series of nearly debilitating blows - she would just lie down and never get back up.

But now, with peace resting so near on the horizon, already warm on her face, the thought of her father's kind smile didn't set off a stab of sorrow straight through her heart. And Marcus, who had been quietly supportive, putting faith in her despite the constant doubts from all sides…

She relaxed into his hold, feeling some of the tension bleed from her spine. "Thanks." She let a smile tease her lips. "Chancellor."

Marcus ducked his head, low chuckle vibrating in his chest. They abruptly died out, and Clarke blinked as backs straightened and eyes widened, gazes drifting over her shoulder.

"Commander."

"Chancellor Kane. Abby." Lexa's carefully modulated tone sounded behind her, sending shivers down her spine. She spun.

"Lexa."

Green eyes bored into her, flicking from Marcus' hand - still resting on her shoulder - to her eyes and back. And then, with the barest edge of softness, "Klark."

There was a long moment, suspended in time, before Abby's strained voice cut through the air. "Commander."

Lexa shifted back a step, allowing her gaze to break from Clarke's, continuing smoothly as if she had never paused to stare at her Ambassador as if she were the only thing in the universe. Sometimes Clarke wondered if anybody else noticed, because sometimes Lexa wasn't subtle _at all._

She ignored the next creeping worry that she herself had hardly been subtle lately either. If the way Titus had been glaring at her was any indication. She peeked to the side. He was glaring at her now, in fact.

"Today was a good start. I'm certain we can come to an accord with the Ice Nation soon." Lexa awarded them with the barest of smiles and from the corner of her eye Clarke could see her mother startle just a bit.

It was a glaring reminder that her people didn't know Lexa like she did. Had only ever seen her stern and stoic, eyes dark with warpaint and clad in unforgiving armor and bristling with weapons.

"We will continue negotiations tomorrow after the morning meal. If you require anything else…?"

Abby nodded stiffly, voice still tight. "I think we'll be fine, thank you."

Marcus, bless his tactful soul; "We've been having a wonderful time exploring the city. We can't wait for some of the others to join us."

Brown curls tumbled as Lexa inclined her head gracefully. "Polis welcomes all members of the coalition freely. I hope all Skaikru will take the opportunity to visit."

Marcus grinned wide. "I'm sure once word gets back you'll have no shortage of Skaikru knocking on your door."

"I look forward to it."

Clarke swallowed a laugh. _Lexa was most definitely not looking forward to it._ The look the Commander threw her way told her she hadn't disguised her amusement well enough.

An irritated cough from Titus interrupted and both Clarke and Lexa grimaced in tandem. Lexa nodded apologetically. "If you'll excuse me, I have other matters to attend." Green eyes dropped pointedly to Marcus' hand, _still_ resting companionably on Clarke's shoulder. "Good day."

And with that she was sweeping away, coat trailing behind her. Clarke watched her go, barely registering the light squeeze before Marcus' hand fell away.

She frowned. _Seriously, acting strange._

* * *

Raven practically vibrated where she stood, head swiveling to take in as much of Polis as she could, eyes bright in a way Clarke hadn't seen in a long time. It was moments like these that reminded Clarke why she fought so hard for her people, why _peace_ was so important.

"Pretty awesome, huh?" Clarke smiled when Raven turned to her, grin wide and blinding. _Happy._

Raven limped her way, rolling her shoulders in a show of affected nonchalance. "It ain't half bad, Griffin. At least you didn't ditch Arkadia for a muddy tent."

Clarke let the underhanded jab slide off her back with a guilty little twitch. "Well if I had known you guys would nearly let everything fall to shit while I was gone maybe I would have stuck around."

Brown eyes sharpened dangerously at her and Clarke tensed, preparing for more cutting remarks, but the loud burst of laughter that erupted eased her worry.

"Damn Griff, that's cold." Raven chuckled. "I guess we deserved that. C'mon, _Ambassador,_ show a girl around, yeah?"

It felt as if a ton of weight had sloughed off her shoulders. "Sure. There's this stall that serves the best fried fish and there's an entire street market dedicated to gadgets and knick-knacks and mysterious metal bits that only you could love."

They spent the rest of the afternoon together, most of which was indeed spent browsing through the kriken tek market as Clarke had predicted. The pair was headed back towards the main square when Raven slowed, pensive frown creasing her face.

 _Here it comes._ Clarke thought. She sighed, but turned to face the other woman head on.

Raven studied her quietly, gaze dark and solemn. "I can't really say I'm one hundred percent on board with whatever you're doing here, or that I understand, but I'm glad you're doing it." She stepped in close, slinging her arms around her. "Thanks."

Clarke drew in an astonished, hiccuping breath, eyes hot with tears that brimmed at the edges. _Thanks._ When was the last time she had heard that?

 _"Is this 'I told you so?'"_

 _"This is thank you."_

From someone other than Lexa? From her people? Her friends? She looped her arms around Raven's waist, snuggling into the other woman's comforting embrace. "I've missed you, Raven." She murmured.

She was answered with a snort. "Whatever. Don't get all mushy on me. It's gross." But despite her words Raven didn't move, equally content, it seemed, to stay in the hug.

Clarke wasn't sure how long they stood there, in the middle of a busy Polis street, wrapped in each other's arms and no doubt drawing inquisitive glances from the passing pedestrians. It was probably a bit of a baffling sight - Wanheda sniffling and clinging to another Skaikru in public.

Well, Clarke was getting used to being stared at.

Although there was one gaze she hadn't yet learned to ignore...and there it was, a prickling heat searing into the back of her head, the one Clarke had long associated with the Commander. And sure enough when she tilted her head where it rested on Raven's shoulder Lexa wavered into the corner of her vision.

She was staring - not meanly or anything - rather something intensely inscrutable, almost curious. It was a hard expression to place even with Clarke's growing familiarity of Lexa's mannerisms and quirks.

"Is there a reason Commander Knife Happy is glaring at us?"

Clarke pulled back with a chastising frown. "Hey, I know you don't like her, but she's done a lot so we can have this peace."

The dark glower on Raven's face didn't lighten and Clarke felt her heart tug in opposite directions. _I'd pick you first._ She didn't want it to come to that, to choose between Raven and Lexa.

"C'mon, Raven," Clarke coaxed. "You don't have to be friends, but we're all living on the same ground now. However you do it, you've gotta find a way to coexist."

Raven let out a rather inelegant snort. "Whatever. She keeps out of my way, I don't punch her in the face."

That nearly brought a smile to her face. "Please don't."

"Why, what's she gonna do? Tie me to a tree? Oh wait..."

Clarke had a feeling her role as Ambassador between Skaikru and Lexa was going to be a full time job.

"And that," Raven growled, jerking her chin at Lexa's nearing form, "...is not keeping out of my way." Her scowl deepened and Clarke shot her a look, mentally begging her to _behave._

Lexa halted a few polite steps away. "Reivon kom Skaikru. I hope Polis finds you well."

Raven crossed her arms over her chest, chin jutting stubbornly in the air. "Oh yeah. Great. No poisoning attempts yet."

Clarke winced, then groaned. _Well, actually…_

But Lexa remained calm, placidly staring in that stoic way of hers despite the waves of aggression emanating from the mechanic. Her bland non-engagement clearly irked Raven because she let out an annoyed huff.

"I'm out." She craned her neck, relief blatantly breaking over her features when she spotted Octavia at the fringes of the crowd. "O and I are gonna go dry out a bar, if there are any worth tapping around here."

Lexa's calm voice cut in. "If you are speaking of a tavern there is one in the Second District - The…" She hesitated. "...Inebriated Badger, I believe is the correct translation. They have been instructed to provide meals and libations free of charge to any Skaikru visiting the city." She eyed Raven warily. "Within reason."

Raven blinked in surprise. "Oh. Well. Okay." She was conspicuously struggling to reign in her instinctual desire snap at Lexa and Clarke felt a burst of gratitude well up.

"...I guess we could give it a shot." Raven grudgingly allowed. It was the closest Lexa would ever get to a thank you from the woman and another kernel of appreciation budded in Clarke's chest when Lexa took her taciturn reply in stride, brow smooth and unoffended.

"So...I guess I'll leave you two to your...ambassadoring." A tan finger wagged between them.

Clarke breathed a small sigh of relief and desperately ignored what she hoped was an unintentional insinuation. "Right. I'll see you later." She tugged Raven in for another hug, squeezing briefly. They detangled and Raven hobbled off with a stiff nod for Clarke and one last sour glare Lexa's direction.

"Well, that wasn't _terrible_ , I guess." Clarke muttered, turning back towards Lexa. Who was staring at her again, with that unreadable expression. Several long seconds passed and Clarke cleared her throat to break the awkward tension. "...Lexa?"

Lexa started, eyes widening. "I'm sorry to interrupt your time with Raven. But your mother has finished her rounds at the hospice and has requested your company."

 _Oh. Of course._ She had been lowkey dreading this, more than happy to drag Raven around the city to delay the heart to heart her mother had been angling at for days. She had managed to avoid it, citing trade negotiations and the impending arrival of the second group of Skaikru visitors. But it looked like her time had finally run out. She sighed. "Okay." She started for the tower, stopping a few steps in when she realized Lexa wasn't following.

Lexa shook her head at her unasked question. "I'm expected at the barracks. I'll be back in the evening."

A wave of disappointment washed over her, and she silently scolded herself. "Of course." She blinked and in the next second she and Lexa had drifted closer, toes not quite nudging against each other.

Lexa's hand twitched and then she was rearing back into parade rest. "Os sintaim, Ambassador."

"Good day, Commander."

Clarke watched her go, feeling very much like she was still missing something.

* * *

Clarke narrowed her eyes. She wasn't imagining things. Lexa was just a bit closer than before. That in itself wasn't worth anything of note, but they had been poring over maps and treaties together for over an hour, and in that time Lexa had commenced this strange dance of inching closer to her one minute and then retreating back the next.

The ebb and flow of Lexa's distinct woodsy scent and body heat sent tiny tendrils of electricity pinging across her nerves, and it was really starting to wear on her. Rather grumpily she persisted in ignoring it all, moving sideways along the table to peer more closely at the Broadleaf Clan's borderlines, considering the possibility of more direct trade routes that could be opened up between them and Arkadia.

But again the fine hairs at the nape of her neck raised, Lexa's presence hovering over her shoulder. There was the barest brush of a hand to her elbow and Clarke was suffused with warmth for one blissful second before the comforting aura abruptly receded.

It left her cold and unbalanced, and the last fraying strain of her patience snapped.

"All right, that's enough!" Clarke whirled on Lexa. "What is wrong with you?"

Lexa reared back, eyes wide, plainly caught off guard. Immediately her shields went up - back straight, arms clasped behind her, chin up. "I…" Her jaw clenched. "I don't know what you mean."

Clarke wasn't buying it. She prowled forward with a low growl, a little germ of satisfaction growing when Lexa tripped backwards a step before stuttering to a halt. She jabbed a finger into the other woman's shoulder. "You've been hovering all week." Another poke. "And _staring._ " She went for one more poke but Lexa slide smoothly out of range.

"I have not." She coolly denied.

"Oh yes you have." Clarke crossed her arms, leveling her best 'I know you're up to something' look, which she had learned from her mother and perfected during her time with the delinquents. She was gratified to find is worked on Lexa too, because the other woman shifted nervously on her feet, eyes straying away before guiltily snapping back to hers. "Seriously, what's going on?"

Those proud shoulders slumped ever so slightly. "I was just...observing."

A blond eyebrow ticked up. "Observing."

"Your people-"

"Don't you mean 'our' people?"

Lexa gave her the exact same look as when she had told her 'mockery is a product of a weak mind.'

"Skaikru. You are all very...demonstrative."

"...Demonstrative?" _Oh._ Clarke was beginning to think she knew what this leading to.

Lexa started to pace, continuing on unaware that Clarke had twigged. "...Yes. You...seek each other's touch often."

 _Oh._ Lexa's protracted stares. The stolen glances. Her odd hesitance whenever she was within arm's reach. It hadn't really occurred to her, that Lexa wasn't often _touched._ When was the last time she had been shown any physical affection? When she had _allowed_ it?

The kiss.

Lexa had been so soft, so gentle. Pressing in light and pliable, waiting for Clarke to reciprocate, immediately withdrawing the moment Clarke pulled away.

And after the leader's challenge when Clarke redressed her wound, fingers lingering across her hand and Lexa had peered up at her like she was a gift she hadn't dared wished for...

Clarke was a naturally tactile person. She grew up in an environment filled with spontaneous hugs and kisses on the cheek. Fond hair tousles and impromptu tickling fights. She couldn't imagine spending so much of her life without the touch of another person, another living being. Even in her self-imposed exile Clarke hadn't lasted more than three weeks before seeking out some sort of human companionship.

That Lexa must have lived most her life without, had probably lived the past few years (since Costia, since she was _loved_ ) at a distance from _everyone…_

It made Clarke's heart ache.

And how _good_ was Lexa, who gave and gave so much of herself while getting so little in return? Even something so seemingly small and innocuous as a hug? The thought cemented a burgeoning resolve in Clarke's chest.

"Lexa?"

The other woman paused mid-stride in her pacing.

"...C'mere."

Lexa stared, eyes guarded. She didn't move. Clarke rolled her eyes. "Lexa. C'mon."

Tentatively the other woman edged closer. Clarke waited patiently until she came to stop in front of her, lips hesitantly curling in the slightest of smiles when Clarke grinned at her. She spread her arms wide. "Okay, don't wig out, okay."

Lexa's head tilted curiously. "Wig…?"

Clarke hugged her.

Well. It was sort of like hugging a wall. A very womanly shaped wall. Who smelled good (okay _fantastic_ ) and was wrapped in the smoothest satin.

It was also a bit awkward.

"Relax." Clarke hushed. She ran her hands soothingly up and down Lexa's rigid back, refusing to back away until muscle by muscle the tautness leeched from her form. Arms cautiously slid around her hips, warm hands splaying across the small of her back when Clarke murmured her encouragement, nuzzling even closer in approval.

And then with a long shuddering sigh Lexa was burrowing into her, head tilting and nose tucking behind her ear.

Clarke smiled into Lexa's shoulder, heart hammering pleasantly in her chest. She felt so _warm_ , and _secure,_ and the rest of the world - the worries, the stress - just faded away. The memory of Lexa kneeling at her feet, swearing loyalty, gaze earnest and open and vulnerable lurched to the forefront of her mind and for the first time since the Mountain Clarke could feel herself _trust_ again.

The revelation came with such a surge of _relief._

When they finally parted, the flickering candles surrounding them notably shorter, Clarke smothered her indulgent grin at the little whine that fell from Lexa's lips in protest. _Big bad Heda. Complaining about a hug ending._

Lexa shuffled back, eyes downcast in embarrassment.

 _Hey, none of that._ Clarke followed, keeping close, maintaining contact. She nudged at her, wordlessly coaxing until Lexa dragged her head back up, reluctantly meeting her gaze. Clarke smiled, rubbing Lexa's biceps in reassurance, easing her apprehension. Lexa smiled back, crooked and bashful, and it felt like Clarke's heart swelled so fast it might burst from her chest.

 _Oh. Oh. She was in so much trouble._

* * *

She had created a monster. A hugging monster.

Sure Lexa remained formal and detached in public, wearing that distant aura like a cloak. And Clarke understood, because Lexa was more than just a leader - she was an ideal, a dream, a symbol to push the hope of the future onto.

Or a scapegoat to tear down and throw into the fire.

So Clarke _got_ it. Lexa simply wasn't in the position to openly show affection.

But in the privacy of the tower and their quarters, when the room emptied and Lexa would shift towards her with that _look_ in her eye - wanting and longing and _needy_ yet still shy and unsure and _god,_ the way that made Clarke _feel_. Like someone powerful and terrible, who could hold the sun in their hand.

Because Lexa would shuffle beseechingly forward, arms falling open, one hand raising to tap timidly at Clarke's elbow until she acquiesced, leaning in the rest of the way to envelop Lexa in a solid hug. The breathy little quiver that ensued when Lexa reciprocated, palms warm and firm at her back even through her clothes never failed to give her heart a little jolt.

This was something wholly _Clarke's,_ wholly _theirs._ A piece of Lexa no one else got to see.

It had become such a habit Clarke suspected Lexa had developed something like an addiction, because every time Clarke turned to leave without bestowing a hug Lexa would emit a soft little wounded noise in the back of her throat, lips pouted (pouting! The Commander of the Thirteen Clans!) and eyes full of affront at Clarke's apparent snub.

It was, Clarke conceded, a problem that very much wasn't a problem.

 _fin._

* * *

AN: So the best thing to come out of that disastrous finale was the bts Vancouver video where Alycia randomly nudges Eliza for a hug. Which this fic is based on. THEY'RE SO CUTE. Now excuse me while I go yell endlessly into the void at all the lost potential of Clexa. Insert obligatory "fuck you Jrot" here.

Questionable Trigadasleng Corner:

Kriken tek - Old technology

Os sintaim - Good day


End file.
